Time Anomaly: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #2)

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Time Anomaly: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #2) Page 34

by Lindsey Fairleigh


  “I will see you again,” I murmured, my hand pressed against the At just over his heart.

  And then, turning away, I pulled my desert robe over my head, leaving the linen in a heap in the corner of the room, knowing it would be long gone by the time Marcus found this place, and removed Aset’s note from my small purse. I broke the seal and started to read the precise hieroglyphs.

  I fear you will be angry with me when you read this, but it is what must be.

  That is all that matters. Know that because of what you are about to do, wherever you go, whenever you are, so long as Nekure and I are still alive, we will be there to help you along the way.

  Before you return to your time, you must go back even further to rescue me and return me to my brother. And before you leave that time, you must give me this message to pass on to Nuin, as he will be in another time while you are there:

  Great Father, my name is Alexandra Larson, the Meswett you seek. My mother is Alice, daughter of the Netjer-At Alexander and granddaughter of the Netjer-At Ivan, and my fathers are the Netjer-At Set and the Nejter Apep. I am Hat-Hur, your wife, and bond-mate to Heru. Find me, old friend, protect me, and ma’at will be restored to the universe, for this is what has always been and will always be.

  I am not positive on the exact wording, but all of that must be said. Nuin receiving this message is the moment that sets the course for the next six thousand years, so make sure you do not err.

  Good luck, my dear friend. I shall see you again soon.

  I stared at Aset’s words and shook my head slowly. She was wrong—I wasn’t angry with her; I was stunned. Thinking about making my first, purposeful jump through time was intimidating enough, but now I had to do it twice, and I didn’t even know when or where I was supposed to go.

  My hands started to shake, making the papyrus rattle softly, and I knew myself well enough to know that if I didn’t try right now, I’d lose my nerve and never try at all. And then this room would become my tomb as well as Nuin’s.

  “Get it together, Lex.” I rolled up the papyrus and returned it to my little drawstring purse. “You can do this.” I thought of Tarset, and of Marcus and my mom and dad and Set and Jenny and her unborn baby and all of the other people in my time who were depending on me. And then I thought of Aset, and what she was going through right now—in some distant, past time—and as my resolve solidified, my hands stopped shaking.

  Holding my head high, I kept my focus locked on Aset, on saving her, and walked straight into the nearest wall . . . and out of time completely.

  ***

  I re-entered time stumbling and gasping. Before I even had a chance to orient myself to the sudden silvery light or the rushing, roaring sound all around me, I ran into to a warm, hard, and oh-so-familiar-smelling body crouching directly in front of me.

  “Shit!” I hissed as I tripped, skittered backward, and landed on my butt on soft, wet sand. The back of my head connected with a small rock with a sickening crack, and stars filled my vision, joining the brilliant night sky that blazed overhead.

  Something cool and sharp was suddenly pressed against the front of my neck, and Heru’s face appeared about a foot above mine. At least, I was pretty sure it was Heru. His spicy scent was exactly like Heru’s, and his face resembled Heru’s almost exactly, but not quite. He looked younger, softer . . . more human, I realized.

  And then it dawned on me. Because he was more human; he had to be, if I’d really made it back to the time of Aset’s attack and abduction. When Aset had been taken, she’d yet to manifest, which meant the same was true for her twin, Heru.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he whispered in the original tongue, the low sound harsh. He shot a quick glance around. “And where did you come from?”

  I rubbed the back of my head and slowly sat up, pushing against his dagger blade with my neck. He let up just enough to allow me to sit fully, and took a position squatting in front of me. When I pulled my fingers away from my throbbing skull, they were sticky with warm blood.

  “Being assaulted by you, apparently,” I muttered, only answering his second question, and even then only answering partially. Using a move he’d taught me, I took hold of his wrist and twisted sharply, forcing him to drop the weapon and knowing full well that, were he any older or more experienced, it wouldn’t have worked. “And you do not need that, Heru.” I released his wrist. “I am here to rescue your sister.”

  Heru moved away from me quickly, retrieving his dagger before standing. He eyed me warily.

  Sighing, I touched the back of my head again and swept my gaze over the moonlit landscape. Ocean waves beat against sand a short ways to my right, the water as dark as midnight, and to my left, gentle slopes of pale sand spread out as far as I could see. The waves, at least, explained the rushing, roaring sound I’d heard. As far as I could tell, we were somewhere on the northern African coast, with the Mediterranean Sea to one side and the Sahara to the other.

  Narrowing my eyes, I returned Heru’s measuring stare. “What are you doing here?” At least the ache in the back of my skull was already receding.

  He straightened. “Rescuing my sister.”

  “Hmmm . . .” I hadn’t expected to find him there, despite it making sense that he would go after his sister. Recalling something Aset had told me when recounting her tale, I scanned Heru’s body, not that I could see much under the ankle-length, black linen robe he was wearing. “You are injured. Where? Are you alright?”

  Heru’s eyes widened, and his free hand moved to touch the lower left side of his ribcage. “I am fine. How did you—” He shook his head. “How do you know who I am? How do you know about my sister?”

  I exhaled heavily and pushed up to my feet. Brushing off my backside, I met his eyes. “It is a long story . . . and one that we do not have time for now.” I glanced out at the inky sea, then back at the endless desert. “Do you know where Aset has been taken?”

  He nodded, his eyes flicking to some point behind me.

  I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. A rocky outcropping jutted up toward the night sky several miles away.

  “There is a cave. I believe he has her there.”

  I rubbed my hands together and stretched my neck from side to side, mentally preparing for whatever disturbing scene I might find inside this cave. “Is it just the two of them, do you know? Or are there others?”

  Heru shook his head. “I took care of the others back at the Oasis—when he first took her.”

  “I see.” Not willing to wait any longer, I said, “Wait here. I shall return with your sister shortly.”

  “What?” Heru started toward me. “But should I not—”

  Before he could finish, the misty, swirling colors of the At surrounded me, and I jumped from the peaceful, moonlit beach to a cavern that could have been inhabited by the devil himself.

  A single campfire lit pale, jagged walls with writhing streaks of orange and yellow, making the stone appear almost on fire itself. A sharp shriek cut through the crackle of burning wood, closely followed by a low, menacing laugh. On the cavern floor on the other side of the fire, a small, nude woman huddled, curled in on herself, and a larger, masculine figure loomed over her, his back to me.

  “Please,” Aset gasped. “No more.” She hugged her knees to her bare chest in what was clearly a desperate attempt to protect herself.

  Rage boiled my blood, and my hands curled into fists. “Your depths of depravity never cease to amaze me,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Aset’s captor spun around, pulling an obsidian dagger from his woven leather belt and licking his lips. Hunger gleamed in his dark eyes. “Who are you?” he hissed, taking a step toward me.

  I sneered. Even possessing a Nejeret, he stood about as much chance against me—against Re’s sheut—as an ant. “You are pathetic, Apep.”

  He stumbled, then stopped, his mouth hanging open and his eyes shining with outrage.

  Laughing, I raised my hand, and just as
I’d done to Ankhesenpepi, called forth vines of At. They burst up from the cavern floor and snaked around Apep’s legs, restraining him. “You disgust me. If I could erase you from existence . . .” But I couldn’t. And as awful as it was to admit, even if I could, I wouldn’t.

  His lips retracted, and he snarled.

  I ignored his little outburst. “But you are needed in the future”—I crossed my arms over my chest—“so all I can do is take young Aset away from you and erase all of your memories of her and what you have done to her . . . and all memory of me, of course.” I scanned him from head to toe, recalling something else Aset had included in her tale. “And your host body’s memories as well, since he invited you to possess him in the first place.” I smiled, feeling the spirit of vengeance fill me, keeping me calm, helping me focus. “And I think I shall leave you trapped in that body for a little while longer.”

  I willed the At vines to climb higher, capturing his arms and trapping them against his body, before stepping closer. Raising my hand, I touched my fingertips to Apep’s forehead, preparing to erase both Apep and his host’s memories. “It is a fitting punishment that your freedom will mean his death, but it is not enough. I think I shall add some memories of intense pain as well, though I fear that, too, will not be enough. Nothing will change what must come.”

  Apep started to writhe in his At bindings as I did as I’d promised, and even through the chill that had slowly been seeping into my soul, I found pleasure in his tormented grunts and cries. Which probably should have bothered me. But in the thrall of the chill—the oneness—it didn’t.

  “Please do not hurt me,” Aset whimpered, her voice small and shrill.

  I shifted my focus to her, and the oneness shattered. Moving toward her slowly, I held out my hands and spoke to her, keeping my voice low, my tone calm. “I will not hurt you, Aset.” I crouched in front of her, but made no move to touch her. “Your brother is waiting for you outside, just a short ways up the beach. I will take you to him, it—”

  “Heru? You saw Heru?” She raised her head, meeting my eyes for the first time. Her own widened. “Oh my—your eyes are like the Great Father’s.”

  I offered her a small smile and nodded. “Yes, they are. And I came here to rescue you because he was away and could not do it himself.” I glanced over my shoulder at the shuddering form of Apep’s host body. “He will not bother you again, I swear it.”

  Her eyes lingered on the forbidding man, still held upright by the At vines restraining him, then settled back on me. She blinked several times, tears welling in her eyes and her chin trembling, and when I reached out a hand to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze, she threw herself at me. Shuddering and sobbing, she clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her alive.

  I held her tightly and rubbed her back in slow circles. She was so small, so fragile, it seemed, and it amazed me to think of the strong, graceful woman she would become.

  Eventually, she quieted, and I helped her to her feet. “Do you have any clothing?”

  She shook her head, her eyes flicking to the fire. “He burned my dress.”

  I sighed, my own eyes landing on a rough woven blanket. Retrieving it quickly, I wrapped it around her shoulders along with my arm and guided her toward the narrow, uneven mouth of the cave. Neither of us glanced back at her abductor.

  “How did you know to come?” she asked once we were out of the stifling cave and under the stars.

  I laughed softly. “Now that is quite a story.”

  “I think I would very much like to hear a story right now,” Aset softly. “I would like to think about anything else but what he did to me.”

  I squeezed her shoulders, my heart bleeding for her. “Very well. In about a thousand years . . .”

  ***

  “Must you go?” Aset asked as we neared the place where I’d left her brother. The sand was soft and cool under our bare feet, and she’d seemed both awed and soothed by my fantastical tale of what was to come.

  I nodded. “I must.”

  I could just make out the outline of Heru, maybe a half mile away, though I knew he wouldn’t be able to see us yet, and I wanted to leave before I had a chance to complicate our relationship any further than it already was.

  Stopping, I turned to face Aset and captured both of her hands. “You cannot tell Heru or any others what I have told you.” I gave her hands a squeeze. “You must promise me.”

  She blinked in surprise, but nodded. Frowning, she said, “What about the Great Father? Surely he must already know of you and what is to come . . .”

  I bit my lip, my eyebrows drawing together. “I do not think so.” Talking a deep breath, I pulled the piece of papyrus Aset had given me a millennium in the future out of my satchel and unrolled it. “You must tell him this, and only this,” I said, and then I relayed her own future words to her, paraphrasing only a little. “My name is Alexandra Larson, and I am the Meswett you seek. My mother is Alice, daughter of the Netjer-At Alexander and granddaughter of the Netjer-At Ivan, and my fathers are the Netjer-At Set and the Netjer Apep. I am Hat-hur, your wife”—I watched Aset’s eyes widen—“and bond-mate to Heru.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  I smiled, just a little. “Find me, old friend, protect me, and ma’at will be restored, for this is what has always been and will always be.” I paused, studying her pretty, stunned face. “Do you need me to repeat it?”

  She quirked her mouth to the side, clearly unsure.

  “You will not be able to find this moment in the At to rehear it, even after you’ve manifested, so . . .”

  Abruptly, she nodded. “Then yes, repeat it once more, and I shall remember.”

  I did as she requested, then once again took hold of her hands. “There is one more thing you must know—you will be with child from what that Netjer-At did to you.”

  She didn’t look surprised, much to my surprise. “That was what he wanted.”

  “Ah . . .” I understood. “You must tell Nuin that I said that the child is not to be harmed, that he must be allowed to live—though under the guise of being Heru’s firstborn rather than yours. Can you do that?”

  Wide-eyed, she nodded.

  “Good.” I gave her hands a squeeze before releasing them. “In many years, there will be a pharaoh name Pepi Neferkare. On the day of his funeral procession, I will jump through time to arrive at a temple run by priestesses of the cult of Hat-hur in Men-nefer.”

  “Hat-hur . . .” Aset stared at me quizzically and shook her head. “This is you, correct?”

  I nodded, if a bit hesitantly, though I wasn’t sure why. After all, I had just told her to tell Nuin that I was Hat-hur. “But I prefer ‘Lex.’”

  “There is no temple cult devoted to you yet . . .”

  I shivered, feeling like someone had just walked over my grave. “Then you must ensure that one exists by the time I arrive.”

  Aset nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe I can do this.”

  “And remember, when I arrive, I will not know you—not really.”

  “Because all that you have told me has not happened yet—for that younger version of you,” Aset said, accepting it all a whole lot better and more quickly than I had.

  “Aset!” Heru called.

  Peering over Aset’s shoulder, I could see Heru running along the beach toward us. I met Aset’s eyes. “I must go before he sees enough of me that I must erase his memory.”

  “Very well.” Unexpectedly, Aset leaned in and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you . . . thank you so much.” Her body shook as she spoke. “You cannot know how much I appreciate what you have done. My life is yours.”

  “But do not forget, Aset,” I whispered, “it is also yours.” Pulling back, I smiled down at her.

  “Aset!” Heru was only several dozen paces away.

  “Farewell,” I said right before hurtling myself into the At, body, ba, and all, thinking only of the Oasis and of my own time.

  Dizzily, I staggered out of t
he At and into Nuin’s crystalline sarcophagus.

  He looked just as I’d left him what felt like such a short time ago, his features glowing in a soft incandescence in a semblance of peace . . . of sleep. For a moment, as I stared at his familiar, unusually relaxed features, I thought it hadn’t worked and I’d returned to the Oasis at the end of the 6th Dynasty instead of my own, native time.

  “Welcome home, Lex.”

  I spun around, making my time-travel vertigo even worse. A trim man dressed all in black, with black hair, multiple facial piercings, and an amalgam of tattoos in various shades of gray covering his exposed arms, stood in the doorway to the right of Nuin’s altar.

  “Nekure,” I breathed . . . right before my knees gave way, and I lost consciousness.

  45

  Reunite & Unite

  Opening my eyes, I found Nekure’s handsome face hovering over mine. His eyes were the palest blue, shining with a mixture of concern and excitement.

  “Hey,” I whispered. “Marcus?”

  “On his way.”

  I raised my hand, touching my fingertips to his pierced eyebrow. “I like you better without all this, you know.”

  He grinned and briefly raised his eyebrows. “It’s camouflage.”

  Blinking, I slid my gaze down to his tattooed forearm. “How long do they last?”

  He glanced down at his arm and shrugged. “A couple years at most.”

  I narrowed my eyes and focused on a sliver of abdomen visible between the bottom hem of his t-shirt and the top of his black jeans, where his shirt had hiked up a bit. It was dark with ink. I raised my eyebrows. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me those are for camouflage, too?”

 

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